Things Left Behind
by Jest'lyn Tal
Summary: KOTOR: Sometimes there just isn't anything left to do but sit back and watch... Though Malak lies dead a few yards away, Revan debates whether to fight for her own life. However, what is worth holding on to and what she'll lose, isn't up to her alone.
1. Not With A Bang, But With A Whimper

Disclaimer - Thanks to everyone who has written reviews. I really appreciate it. This is the first fan fict I've written, and I never realized how addictive the reviews were! I've left this one open because, obviously, it goes rather AU. And beyond being told 'write or die' *grins and blushes* I don't know if there is any interest at all for anyone wanting to know what I think happens next. Please let me know? The Jedi and their universe belong to Lucas. The voice of the main character is all I can lay minor claim to (glad some of you like that voice ;)  
  
Bangs and Whimpers  
  
The transparent steel felt cool against her cheek and that coolness spread. The heat of battle, her thoughts, her fears, her blood slipping away from her to stain the metal floor, were all being slowly dissipated into coolness. There was no sound except for the occasional drip of nutrient fluid from the tubes that encircled the room and she was alone except for the presence of corpses.  
Ships swarmed in her view, bright lights darting and swooping just beyond reach. It was too difficult to tell the tide of battle from just this vantage but she had faith in the Republic. Faith in Bastila. Granted it was sort of stunted wary faith but it was there nevertheless. Besides, on some level the Sith had to know they were defeated. Even if they won now, they were finished.  
Or was that more Jedi hocus pocus? Did they know? Did they sense that their Master was dead? If so, did that really mean they would fight less fervently?  
A Sith fighter blew into pieces as it careened past her line of sight.  
Perhaps so.  
Malak was dead. He had not died quickly enough however. Perhaps that was his last hit. To speak to her and say things she had not wanted to hear. She'd debated against playing the Jedi party line to him, spouting about good and evil, or perhaps playing the vicious murderer. Let him know that it wasn't just luck that brought him down it was strength. Her strength. And no one would take that from her, ever! She'd wavered between the two. He didn't seem to react one way or another. But, he was gone either way. The Republic should be just fine. And that was what everyone had wanted. Her eyes closed. Everyone. She breathed in the scent of burnt flesh and electronics, the metallic taint of blood and her own sweat.  
There. an inquiry felt. Bastila was wondering what had happened. The conveying of thought was not so crude as words but it was understood and presented with a certain elegant dignity.  
She had less of that when she tried it. Or she felt as if she did. Her sending in response seemed clumsy, haphazard.  
Go. He's dead. Take the Hawk and run.  
Acknowledgement in return and waiting. We'll wait for you.  
Her brow furrowed. No. Don't. Not coming.  
?  
She summoned all her reserves and projected through their link all the pain, fatigue, and weakness in her body. It was colored, tainted by emotional pain and exhaustion. She didn't care. She wasn't trying to present an accurate depiction of reality. That wasn't her point. She wasn't going to be able to make it, she told Bastila through haze. She was dying and they should go. There was no time.  
There was shock but again slow acknowledgement. Bastila accepted what she was being told. Echoes of grief and a sending of comfort delicately spread their warmth into her mind.  
How sweet. Bastila would grieve for her. She didn't relent though; she kept her mental focus on the pain to keep her lie solid.  
Go.  
Bastila broke the contact, no doubt having to deal with how to tell the crew and get them to believe her. To move.  
She inhaled deeply and shuddered, unable to help the train of thoughts that continued to speak to someone no longer actively listening.  
It was almost as if, knowing now that Bastila was no longer listening, the words and feelings were free to escape in a panicked desperate rush. Everything she wanted for them.  
  
For a Jedi to live and forgive herself...  
For a Twi'lek girl to grow but not lose her trust.  
For a Wookie to return to his people and lead, belonging.  
For a Cathar to realize that she is in the light, and always has been.  
For a warrior to find the fulfillment he's seeking, even without the battle.  
For a hermit to allow himself to forgive and live again.  
For Carth..Carth. to love and have it in return. Someone who will never hurt you just by being. someone you can trust.as you never could trust m.  
  
She shook her head, expression pulled into pain, sweat damp hair clinging to the transparent steel. She wasn't thinking clearly. Her eyes opened and she turned her head to look outside again, shallow breath creating clouds on the surface.  
Less than a moment later a ship roared past, close enough for her to see the hull panels. The Ebon Hawk tore from its resting place, and as if in answer, the room began to tremble, the station taking hits in earnest. But she fixed her gaze on the Hawk, as if sheer intensity would bring them through the battle zone intact. If she stopped looking. if she stopped watching. she needed to see them through. And she sent her thoughts out after them, a futile gesture, but the only gesture she had left to give  
Go. Run. Live. Exist. Be.  
Be happy.  
All of you. my home, my family, be happy. be safe.  
The room shook again, violently as metal groaned. She was thrown backwards and her back arched as pain bloomed anew. She had no more strength, nothing more to be. She'd served her purpose and she was.. Content. Yes. Content and now wearied. It was time to let go. This was good. This was right.  
Still, she was sobbing.  
And then the tread of running foot steps, their vibrations and then their sounds, intruded.  
She looked up as someone ran into the room. 


	2. Resolutions

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. Pretty much I intend to post chapters/ficts as long as I get reviews. Its not meant to be bribery or extortion, I just know that lots of fan fict can be unwanted/go bad really quick. And my take on things may be boring and I don't realize it. I figure, if no one reviews, then I know I'm boring! Make sense? So, if you want to see more, just drop me a line. Thanks! "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time, one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 2 - Resolutions  
  
I could have found Malak's last stand even without Bastila's directions. All I had to do was follow the bodies left like gruesome sign posts. They'd cut their way to Malak's lair and sometimes the bodies were piled beyond my ability to quickly count. I have to admit, I wasn't exactly happy about things. Part of me couldn't help but feel slighted that they'd left me behind at the ship while they charged in. They needed a pilot more then they needed a soldier, Jolee had said. And that's fine. That's perfectly understandable. But I'd just spend more than my share of time recently waiting back at the ship while that same trio, sometimes with Canderous instead of Jolee, granted, but mostly just those three, went off and did all the work. It didn't used to be like that.  
  
She hadn't even really looked at me. She made eye contact with Juhani and the old man and they'd turned to leave. Stay with the ship and keep it safe, she'd said.  
  
Explosions were beginning deep in the station, masking the noise of a fully armored man running along catwalks. I wasn't trying to sneak up on anyone anyway. Those few Sith who were left to challenge me were not much of a challenge at all. I didn't have much time but I was close now.  
  
Yeah, it made sense to bring three Jedi into this mess. But part of me couldn't help but feel like if I had been there, things would have ended differently. I wouldn't have to be running like a suicidal mad man through the ship trying to get to Reven in time.  
  
It wasn't that I didn't believe Bastila. I trust her and she's a good person. But if Reven was alive enough to be thinking coherently, to project those thoughts coherently, she was alive enough to be found again. And I couldn't just give up on her like that.  
  
I ran with my pistol in one hand and a bunch of life packs in the other. A long dark room, littered with enough droid parts to make a petty salvager rich - obviously, she'd been through here. But I knew that at this point she'd been by herself. Didn't seem to have slowed her down too much.  
  
Another hit and I fell, swearing. I caught my feet and entered a room that stunk of ozone and something sickly medicinal. More bodies, pale and wet. And lying in the center of the chamber, focus of all that death, was Malak. I barely noticed him. Some distant part of my mind acknowledged that the man who was ultimately responsible for my wife's death was laying in front of me, and I felt that, but. I could not see Revan. This brought me up short. My focus had been to find her. Simply find her. What we'd do afterwards, I'd take as it came but ...  
  
She had to be here. Somewhere . The walkway. She was lying, still. Her wide eyes staring at me. She was already dead.  
  
No.  
  
No.  
  
No.  
  
I hissed in breath to, I don't know, scream, shout, something. My knees faltered as all motivation seemed so utterly useless now. Again. I couldn't breathe. Somehow I was too late. I was always too late ...  
  
Then she blinked and opened her mouth, as if to say something. Alive! I jerked forward, scrambling. Purpose again. Get her, get out.  
  
"Hang on." I said, probably harsher than I meant to. I know I wasn't too gentle as I took her arm and began pumping her full of as much kolto as I had on me. She pulled her shoulder away at first but not with enough strength to break my grip. "What - you - what are you doing here?"  
  
"Come on gorgeous. Didn't leave you behind on the Spire. What makes you think I'd do that here?"  
  
She was staring at me with an even more incredulous expression now. I couldn't help it, I grinned. That was the last of it. I grabbed her arm and made to hoist her up, ready to carry her. She struggled. Another hit rocked the room and girders began to fall. We both stumbled against each other. "I'm fine I.." She shut up abruptly, seeming confused. Fine?  
  
No time to argue. "Come on. Malak had his personal ship in a secondary hanger below us. We've got to reach it." I reached for her again.  
  
She took my hand but didn't let me take her weight. I felt a surge of - something - run down my spine, into my feet. The world seem crisper, clearer.  
  
"Let's go," she said. When we began to run, the walls blurred. She'd had enough strength to give both of us speed. And even to heal the petty injuries I'd gotten on my way, batting the few remaining Sith I encountered aside.  
  
There was no time to consider what that meant. Even with the speed there were flames by the time we reached landing pad.  
  
Malak was many things, but a fool.not hardly. The small ship, barely larger than a fighter, was ready and waiting. The guards, if there ever had been any, had disappeared however. We boarded quickly, trying to keep our balance.  
  
"Strap in." I told her. I tried to do the same with one hand while quickly bring up the engines.  
  
No time for pre-flights, just power and speed. We burst free, flames and debries following behind us. The flames died almost instantly, the debries did not. Within seconds, we were clipped and spinning. I grunted as my shoulder hit the side of the cockpit. One hand was not enough to secure yourself in with. Not in these circumstances.  
  
"Hold on." The unknown planet was blue and white sand tumbling above us, beneath us, then around us. I gritted my teeth and fought for control that was not going to be given. Strange though. As the world exploded into white, then black I didn't hear the rush of air shrieking through the holes torn in the hull or the crunch of metal folding inward. There was just her voice saying my name very quietly.  
  
"Carth."  
  
Then nothing. 


	3. What Dreams

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time, one can definitely be read without the other. I wanted.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 3 - What Dreams May Come  
  
Someone was crying. And almost as if in response, there were footsteps. Not heavy with weight but heavy with the unspeakables. They moved over deck plates [sand,moss,grass,shells].  
  
Trampling. Underfoot.  
  
Stars wheeled. Planets turned.  
  
The sobbing continued. It pulsed like a heart-beat or a tidal call. It was high pitched and low, soft and loud, clear and congested all in turns. And although sometimes it was too quiet to be heard, it was there.  
  
Just as the steps were there [coming,echoing,growinglouder,everpresent]. They were unhurried. They continued to the sound of tears. Drawn.  
  
And the door opened.  
  
The girl [child,baby,toddler,no more than two,no less than thirty] sat in the center of the white room. She was naked, pale and freezing. A brown cloak and a metal cylinder rested near her but she either had not the intelligence or self-preservation to reach for it. Instead she cried and the tears streaming down her face were brittle with the atmosphere around them.  
  
And the door closed because the Other had entered.  
  
Black shifted around her as she stepped across the room towards the girl [child,baby,toddler,no more than two,no less than thirty]. A cloak that moved and billowed, living to create her shadow before and after her. Heat radiated from her dark clad form. It fled her body in waves, creating clouds blocking sky [sight,hope,clarity,vision].  
  
The little girl child shuddered as the darkness and fire cut a swath [a path,a connection,a meeting,a bridge] across her form. She whimpered, hazel eyes distorted and raised her arms, entreating.  
  
Pick me up, please.  
  
She was scarred [marked,burnt,chosen,taken] with long precise lines over her chest. Almost microscopic the lines were, but there. Oh yes. There.  
  
The woman [Sith,Murderer,Bastard,Monster] raised her own metal cylinder. Bright light, red and bleeding sprung forth from its tip and was swung neatly.deftly.  
  
The little girl wailed [keened,begged,suffered,screamed]  
  
And then it was silent.  
  
Just.  
  
Silent.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. When I first posted I didn't really think I'd write again! But, you guys have made me excited about where the story might go. I definitely appreciate that! Again, I'm new to this. Didn't know if I was supposed to respond back individually, but what I've seen is responses at the ends of ficts. If anyone knows of a reason this is discourteous or if there is a better, way, please let me know. Thanks!  
  
Sophita -Thank you. I have to admit I was a bit wary about writing Carth. Glad to hear he came through intact! Now to learn Wookie *grin* And, thanks for the heads up on how reviews sometimes work. I'll keep that in mind! I'd missed the critical time to finish my character's conversations with Carth. So, when I played the game, I was actually shocked that they left Carth and Revan hanging. Not even a single follow up conversation to the 'I want to protect you' stuff? Bah! Hence, I started thinking of what actually would have/could have happened if that type of tension had no resolve.  
  
Akasha15 - Yep. I took your suggestion. The others were pretty much one shots, so I kept them separated. But this is flowing from event to event so. Now I just have to figure out where it ends! I'm not really trying to do cliffhangers they just. happen. Honest.  
  
Mega-Obskira - So I get to live for another few days, right? ;)  
  
Mara Jade2 - * blushes * I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm going to try and keep writing. My muse is easily bribed with chocolate, so.it should work.  
  
Schally - * laughs* I'm trying. I'm trying. Thanks for the review ;)  
  
Insane-android-avako - Very glad you liked it. I'm finished with two chapters right now (this one I'm posting and the next) I probably won't leave this one up without the next chapter for long. Probably have its follow up by the end of the day. 


	4. Falling Farther

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time, one can definitely be read without the other. I wanted.  
  
Things Left Behind Chapter 4 - Falling Farther  
  
In my dreams I was falling - farther and farther from safety. Drowning in cold fear and misery, I was facing my death and could not do anything but scream.  
  
Chill water crashed over my body and I gasped awake. Breathing in the water, I choked and thrashed. My eyes opened to stinging salt and all I could see was red halos and blurs.  
  
In my reality, we were falling - farther and farther down from the surface of the ocean that surrounded us. And as water poured in through the breached hull in spurts, fits and gushes, I was facing my death. And I couldn't even scream.  
  
I convulsed, body jerking as my body tried to purge the water from my lungs in violent coughing. But I couldn't move, held tightly, bruisingly, in place to the chair. There! Air to my right! My neck strained and I fought for breath. Air, then water. It was rising too quickly. I thrashed, hands desperately reaching for the catch on the safety harness. It released, first grudgingly then whisking back. I didn't know which way was really up. Which way the air was. My vision was dotting now, lungs betrayed and making that pain known. But luck, or the Force, was with me. I'd instinctively assumed my back was against the bottom. So I thrashed upwards and found air. The rush of water, the groan of the hull and the blare of alarms all threaten to drown out my salt stained wheezes as I tried to stay afloat.  
  
And for a moment that lasted much too long I had no idea where anything was. Granted, I knew where I was. In the escape ship. And the water kind of led me to believe we were in the ocean of that unnamed world. And the rate it was pouring in and the sensation of falling was pretty good testimony to the fact that we were, indeed, falling deeper. It was very dark. The red emergency lights could not hold much ground against it.  
  
We were already very deep.  
  
But still, even knowing these things, orientating myself after the waking, nearly drowning and passing out, didn't come easily. The ship was falling thrusters first, backwards into the water. I grabbed for my chair again and planted my feet on it. There, above water without treading. My hand reached out for the nearby console, steadying my unsteady balance. The water was up to my knees. I looked up. The pilot's chair was perhaps four feet above me. Its back was high and I could see nothing of the pilot himself.  
  
"Carth!" I yelled, voice a croaking harsh thing. He didn't answer me.  
  
But there was time. For him. Too deep. Could we even hold our breath long enough to reach the surface? Would we kill ourselves with a rapid ascent? Then, we couldn't ascend rapidly; we'd have to do it slowly. But, we couldn't hold our breaths. There had to be EV suits in here. Somewhere. I looked up towards the chair. Still some time before the water reached him. A few minutes before he'd be in even worse danger.  
  
There were lockers. Equipment lockers to the back. They were well below the current water line, however. I took a deep breath and stepped off of the chair. I took a deep breath and tried not to panic. I couldn't see, there was nothing too see. My hands reached out and sought familiar metal shapes. There. Lockers.  
  
Locked.  
  
I began to panic. I drew my light saber, feet knocking against the wall and accidentally pushing me back. Damnit! I wanted to breathe again. I wanted out of this. I wanted. I forced myself to calm down. No chaos - only peace. Only peace. Only peace.  
  
With a gentle push of my thumb the light saber was brought to life. And in that floating sensory muffled world I made a precise cut, turned it off, and re-hooked it to my belt. I reached for the suits inside the locker. My fingers and common sense told me they were not meant for the ocean, but for space. It would do. It would be air. And if we were going to be crushed by the pressure, then the first indicator would likely be the hull smashing us in before we could be facing the ocean on our own.  
  
The suits were heavy.  
  
Levitation was easy.  
  
I surfaced and opened my eyes. The console by my chair was still... yes. It was still out of the water. Or at least part of its surface was. I raised my hand and the suits, resting them there. It was tiring. I shuddered and then focused again. I wobbled as I moved, half supported by the force, half climbing the walls. I could prop myself up along the console too. It wasn't going to be easy to dress Carth quickly, but as long as I didn't drop anything.  
  
It went against everything I felt, everything I believed. But I decided to get into my suit, quickly. I couldn't help him if I was dead, or without air, should things go badly. I sat along the console, head bumping the pilot's chair, and tried to figure out how this version of an EV suit worked while the ocean claimed another set of lights. I pulled the helmet on last, claustrophobia making me breath harder, faster. Alright, ready. I didn't want to over balance the pilot's chair and sent him spinning, so I braced myself against the sidewall and stood. My hand reached out for the chair now bathed in the light from my suit.  
  
It was empty.  
  
I couldn't move. Water gurgled over my feet and I looked down. He hadn't been strapped in. I remembered that, now. He hadn't been strapped in. When we crashed he would have fallen back. back into the aft of the ship.. It had been .. Longer than I could hold my breath. Longer than I could remain conscious . It .. He .  
  
I was moving to jump, to go into the grease stained waters again to find him, when the ship jolted, violently. The ocean floor had finally met our hull. Joints and plates that had been holding together were set askew and the small cabin finally gave up all pretense of structural integrity. The rush of water effectively burst the ship apart.  
  
I was thrown, pummeled, spun, and backhanded away, and everything that wasn't bolted down in the ship forced in the tide along with me.  
  
I still did not see him. 


	5. When I Wake

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about.  
  
This is a reposting of the original - "Not with a Bang But with a Whimper." Since that 1 shot has turned into a series, I figured I'd start on the right foot. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time; one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 5 - When I Wake  
  
The sun rose slowly. Leaves lightened under the white assault and the clarity of the air was sharpened, almost astringent in its feel. Wind darted over the grasses, around the remains of fallen stone. It frothed the caps of waves and drove the sand from one dune to the next. On the water's edge, it ruffled dark hair before misting it with the hitchhiking sand. Dark became less dark and soon a small embankment had built up along the cheek of a face molded into the shoreline. Waves still lapped at non- responsive feet.  
  
The waves gradually worked their way back further, receding with the tide. The sand, which had been wet, dried slowly, remaining damp only under the wet form. Time passed. Eyes began to flicker beneath lids. A smile curved lips and an exhale, stronger than any previous, rustled.  
  
He dreamed. Normally he did not like to dream. It never seemed to lead to the good memories, but always the bad. This time. He dreamt of how their first apartment had smelled. That sour and sickening rotting milk scent. How he'd caught her once sniffing at her hair, making sure that it didn't bear the smell of it too. It had clung to every thing else, or so it seemed. She didn't need to worry though. Every time she moved her head, to look or gesture, he caught the crispness of the cheap, almost detergent like shampoo they'd had to buy. So little money. And he could feel in his own hair how it was turning the strands to straw. He didn't care for himself but that her hair should have to suffer the same fate was deeply disturbing to him. Just another reason to get out. Get moving. Even if he didn't allow himself to admit it.  
  
He dreamt of her walking through the market place. They had needed something or another. And she'd brought the kid with her, perhaps for some clothing. He'd never really known. The child had gotten tired and - swoop up on her hip for a ride. The kid was too old, too big for it. But she'd done it anyway. They'd walked and he watched as she turned her head to murmur something to the little girl. The girl, drowsy, merely nodded and rested her head down again.  
  
She'd smiled. And it was a different type of smile than he'd ever seen before. He'd tried to follow her to see it again, but it was gone. Too elusive for him to know.  
  
And her voice. As it had said his name a hundred times. The last time she'd said it.  
  
He opened his eyes.  
  
The sun was directly over-head and as he tried to turn over, he grunted and shut his eyes again quickly.  
  
"Man." His voice felt like sand paper. He tried to swallow. His throat felt like sandpaper. At least he knew there was a theme. He waited for a long time and then moved to sit up. Strangely, he didn't move to walk away, didn't move to shift. He didn't even move to try and wipe the sand still clinging like a half mask to the side of his face. He focused out to the waves and waited patiently.  
  
The tide was swirling around his waist when the ocean finally gave up an environment suit clad form, trudging forward. Carth very slowly smiled, having never deviated his line of sight and never needing to. He moved to stand.  
  
And promptly fell back.  
  
"Shit."  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Akasha15 - Intreguing is good! And its funny, your last review gave me a whole new plot direction to consider. How can anyone ever say that reviews aren't the best thing to happen to a fict and reviewers absolutely wonderful?! Thank you. I may have to dedicate the plot point to ya. And.. Hershey you say? Fly, my fingers, fly! ;)  
  
Mara Jade2 - *perks up* Thanks! And chocolate certainly doesn't hurt. I was going to ask of reviewers/readers in general whether they found the short chapters annoying or good. The good thing is making them short does get them posted faster. And. it seems to 'feel' like it fits. At least to me. I imagine that once Carth and Revan start actually interacting, we'd have it be longer. But. can't guarentee it. So..  
  
Anyone have any imput on the short chapter format? Good or bad?  
  
Thanks for everyone who has read and everyone who has reviewed. I really appreciate it! 


	6. When At Last We Meet

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about.  
  
This is a reposting of the original - "Not with a Bang But with a Whimper." Since that 1 shot has turned into a series, I figured I'd start on the right foot. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time; one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 6 - When At Last We Meet  
  
She removed her helmet and breathed in. The suit had an hour or so of air left but only because she'd been breathing so shallowly. After the frantic searching of the dark sea floor, she'd had to make a choice to force that calm to return. Just as panic hadn't helped her in freeing the suit from its locker, panic wouldn't help her survive or to do what was needed. For only the second time in her time as a Jedi, her meditations actually served an active and instantly applicable purpose. They calmed her and gently pointed out where there was life. Behind her and to her right was something that felt like air breathing life. She didn't know how she was making such a distinction, but it she was certain of it.  
  
So she began walking. Trudging along the sea floor she'd focused just on moving. She didn't know how much ground she was covering in the snail's pace of her suit. Time very quickly became moot.  
  
Her body began to ache in earnest. She began to wonder if the places where her harness had held her into her seat were only bruised and not broken. Adrenaline and shock had held off much, but without their blindfold she was aware of how banged up she'd gotten. Now that she'd reached land, more than slow enough to avoid nitrogen sickness, she felt her knees collapse with the demands of gravity. The suit was heavy and she was so tired. She swallowed and raised her head to focus in on the island she'd reached.  
  
He was alive. She wouldn't believe anything else.  
  
..  
  
And he was looking back at her, smiling a strange mix of smug vindication and triumph while he sat in the surf. Half his hair was sticking up on one side, plastered by salt water. Myriad cuts lined his face and neck. None were life threatening but they were disturbing to see. She struggled against the water to get to her feet, walking over to him as quickly as she could. She fumbled briefly.  
  
"Funny seeing you here," he said when she was within range.  
  
"Are you alright?" Her initial question was not deflected by the humor, though she belatedly offered a lame, "We do keep running into each other, don't we."  
  
"I'm alright. Little scratched but. You? "  
  
"I'm alright. Just a little. " She shook her head, ". I'm fine."  
  
They looked at each other for a long moment.  
  
"I knew you were." Carth said finally.  
  
She raised her brows, "Really."  
  
He moved to stand, taking more care to move slowly this time, "Yeah. I'm not sure how. I mean, it doesn't really make sense, does it? But I didn't doubt you were fine."  
  
"That makes one of us," she replied, a bit tartly. It was finally sinking in. He was alive. She felt like everything that had kept her focused had slipped away. And the world was just as confusing and twisted as it was before she'd been able to think of his safety and him alone.  
  
"What? You thought you weren't going to make it?" Carth began to walk, wincing.  
  
".Was thinking about you, actually," She made sure she was facing straight ahead, expression impassive.  
  
"Nah, I've been through worse crashes than that," he dismissed. "Once we get dried off and settled, I'll have to tell you about them."  
  
She couldn't help it, she laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you do, if you actually follow through on that, it will be the first time ever that you've volunteered any information. Ever," she shot him a sideways sardonic look.  
  
He chuckled, "Yeah, well." he stopped and reached out his hand. Her breath caught in surprise as his palm came to rest against her cheek, cupping her face as she turned to look at him. "Malak is dead. You are still alive and I am still alive," Carth said quietly, "Somehow, I think that makes this a perfect time to start talking. Don't you?"  
  
She froze. Yet he was watching her, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. She swallowed, tempted to try meditating again - anything to stave off this new panic, and then stepped away.  
  
"We.we need to find some shelter. Take care of your face. wait for Bastila." She said and began walking away, trying not to break and run.  
  
Carth watched her. "Yeah. Right."  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Insane-Android-Ayako - Thanks. I think I'm going to have to stay with the short chapters. Simply because I'm doing a lot of this during my spare time. And that ain't a lot of spare to go around :) I'd rather get a scene out and have it placed, then hold on it. This one took a while to get out just because the interaction felt so. iffy. But. hopefully won't have such long pauses in the future.  
  
Akasha15 - I hope you're feeling better! I'm glad that I was able to get you something as a reward for getting back online :) And Revan and Carth are indeed trapped. However, at least one person on the Ebon Hawk knows that Revan is still alive. Hrm. wonder if there is documentation on the Jedi Bond used as a homing beacon. ;) Thanks for the input on the chapter length. *nods* When you put it that way. it'd be just silly to make a chapter longer just for the sake of making it longer. So. you watched your hand move for three hours? Hrm. The question is, do you feel tempted to do so again? ;)  
  
Schally - Here's the test now. Carth talking with Revan. Dum DA Dum! That will be the real test of the characterization and plot. But I'm glad I got him down going solo. Thanks :) And, yeah, the kid is mentioned the stowaway. I tried /so/ hard to make the kid genderless. To really leave open whether he was thinking about Revan or his wife and Dustil. But.. it seemed too contrived to work around saying 'she' for the kid so. Ah well. It worked.  
  
Happy Thanksgiving All! 


	7. Give Them Shelter

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time, one can definitely be read without the other. I wanted.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 7 - Give them Shelter  
  
The island wasn't very big. It seemed that the wars of generations gone by had done such damage to the landscape in general that all the planet had the heart for was spattered bits of land lost amid the oceans. A ridge loomed in the distance, but that was the only feature readily visible.  
  
Carth led as they began to make their way into the interior. Revan was watching him closely at first, concerned. He wasn't moving with his typical ease of stride. However, she was willing to bet that she had lost a bit of grace as well. In fact, as she stumbled a second time, she realized that now would be a very good time to stop.  
  
"Hold on," she said, putting a hand out to a tree and drawing up short. She began to pull on the gloves. "Can't stand this any longer."  
  
"Need any help?"  
  
Revan couldn't help but smirk as her tired mind ran through the most inappropriate responses available. She was only grateful that she had the common sense not to blurt them out. The last time she'd gone for the throat with her flirting instincts, he'd backed so far off so quickly she thought he'd end up in the next quadrant.  
  
However, him backing up now wouldn't be such a bad thing, now would it? Here he was, all smiles and acting like the world was fine and good and grand. Maybe it was, for him. Saul was dead. Malak was dead. He could pretend all was happy again and act like he'd not treated her like a damn pariah.! She could feel her eyes narrowing. And she smiled sweetly.  
  
"Why, Carth! I'm shocked at you. Do I really seem like the type of girl who'd let you take her clothes off. without buying me a drink first?" She made her voice low, close to a purr.  
  
Carth barked a short laugh. "Ahh, let's really not go there."  
  
A glove came off, then the other. She shook her head wryly. There, better now. Keep your distance and we'll be just fine, Republic Boy. She unzipped the suit. "Then stop asking to help me take off my clothing and we'll be fine." She said lightly. He didn't say anything and she glanced up to find him staring at her chest. She raised her brows, "Carth. I'm up here."  
  
"Yeah. And the blood's there."  
  
She glanced down to see the criss-cross patterns of the safety harness outlined in pink and red. "Shit."  
  
Carth drew a knife that she didn't remember him carrying and walked over, "We'll cut it off. Don't argue."  
  
"We might need it later." She argued.  
  
"Then heal yourself and we'll take it off. But we both know its going to hurt like hell to try and take it if you don't," he was very reasonable. She shook her head. She was tired. And the place where the Force dwelt in her mind, along the edges of her fingertips, ached almost as badly as the strap marks.  
  
"It'll be fine," she repeated. She began to edge out of the suit. He scowled at her. She bowed her head a little, the better to hide her expression. Impassive wasn't going to happen, no matter how much she wished it. Her shoulder shifted backwards and she drew in a breath as her arm caught.  
  
"Here." And Carth's hand was on her shoulder and tugging on the sleeve. She swayed forward a little, the action bringing his neck, sand spotted, that much closer to her mouth. She took a breath again and moved to free herself of the other sleeve. Why did he keep winning?  
  
+++++++++++  
  
Why was she being so damn stubborn? He pulled back to look at her. Neither of them would be winning any prizes for looking their best. But if she was forgoing using the Force she had to be more worn out than she was letting on. That made him a bit angry with her.  
  
"Come on then. Stand up."  
  
"I'm not ." Revan snapped, and then shut her mouth.  
  
"Not what?" he offered his hand to her as she took off the bulky pants and boots.  
  
"Nothing. Look. Let's just find some shelter, alright? We'll get a bit of rest and I'll see what I can do about fixing us both up."  
  
"Sounds fine with me. Just leave the stuff here for now, I don't think we've got to worry about someone running off with it."  
  
She started to stalk off, leaving him a bit pressed to keep up with her. He gritted his teeth, but didn't say anything. Sand turned to dirt and sand, then gave way to vegetation. She stopped and looked from left to right.  
  
"That way." She muttered and began pushing foliage out of their path. He spluttered as ferns smacked him in the face.  
  
"You got a plan here, or you just wandering aimlessly?" he asked.  
  
"Told you the plan. Find shelter and get some rest."  
  
"Oh, really? I forgot." He didn't even bother to keep the sarcasm from his voice.  
  
She didn't deign to answer.  
  
However, within a moment they'd broken free into what seemed to be a path. The trees were only about half height, grass not as high. Smooth and straight out in front of them it wended. A nice pre-made trail that led. somewhere. His hand rested near his blaster as he walked. Revan didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Looks like we aren't the first people to have been here." Carth said quietly.  
  
"I don't think..they've left." She responded back. She began to slow down and his eyes were drawn forward.  
  
They'd obviously had more control in their descent, or perhaps better luck, when they had fallen from space. They'd hit the island, though only after carving their way through it. It was hard to tell how long the space ship had lain there with what sand and time had done to it. However, it was immediately obvious that it might have been better for them to have hit the water instead. The tumble of cloth and white half fallen out of a twist airlock had once been a living person. Humanoid.  
  
Carth and Revan stood there for a moment. Then he moved forward, "Come on. We'll see what the rest of the ships like. Give these guys a decent burial when we can."  
  
"We should do it now," She said flatly.  
  
He stared at her. "Sure. If you feel up to it. I don't know about you, but I don't have a shovel handy and I'm not exactly feeling my greatest after crash landing and getting sucked out of my ship."  
  
She sniffed, shooting him a dirty look. She stalked for the interior of the ship. Metal creaked under her step, but held solid. He hesitated in following her, but swearing under his breath, he quickly took up a guarding stance. He drew his weapon, just in case, and followed after.  
  
The ship was small, only a few compartments. There was a huge tear along the starboard side, and a tree had made mild headway staking a claim on that shattered room. The cockpit was structurally fine. However, the plates were seared black, charred and scoured out by what must have been an intense fire. The body that was melted to the seat did not seem like it would be easily moved, so they quickly moved to the last. A storage room, cargo containers thrown a dozen ways. Revan sat down quickly on one, then faced away from him, drawing up her legs as if she could get comfortable and rest on such a surface. He shook his head and simply lay on the ground. He exhaled.  
  
"Somehow I got the feeling that this is not going to be fun."  
  
For once, she didn't argue with him.  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Sorry about the long delay guys! Finals. Bad. Evil. James Joyce. Enough said (  
  
Akasha15 - Yeah, I know what you are saying about the irony. However, I get the feeling that Carth can be a bit. shall we say. ignorant of how his decisions can effect other things. At this point I think he thinks its very logical to feel relieved and less paranoid than before. I guess we'll find out if he's right ;) As for Revan? Even if one choose to make him/her have the pristine background, and not the smuggling. the knowledge that your hands did some nasty stuff has to have its effect. And, thanks for the idea about a scene to do. In fact. I think that makes quite a nice place to try and aim for next. if not right next, then soon next ;) Glad you're feeling better!  
  
Schally - Here you go. And again, my apologies. Never meant to make you drool! Well, okay, that's not entirely true. but never meant to make you wait. :) 


	8. My Brother's Keeper

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time, one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 8 - My Brother's Keeper  
  
"We need to leave, now." The dark haired woman abandoned her distant look and the softening of her features for a sharp expression and crisp tone.  
  
"Alright, let's get everyone aboard," Carth had followed up, backing up towards the Ebon Hawk as a measure of leading by example, "Everyone get strapped in. As soon as Revan returns, we're out of here."  
  
None of them had remained inside. The weight of the situation, of their fates, was too heavy a thing to bear in confinement. They'd anxiously awaited, fighting off wave after wave of initial Sith followers and then were forced to bear the inertia of nothing. No Sith. Just silence and the knowledge that it was beyond them.  
  
It was a testament to their faith that they began to move before asking questions.  
  
"Wait," Mission said, "What's happened? What about Malak and Revan?" She stopped short, interrupting the flow of retreat.  
  
Bastila's lips, already tight, tightened further. Carth almost imagined he could see emotion flickering in her dark eyes, but with control that seemed almost savage in its starkness, it was blocked. "He's dead. The base is about to be destroyed around us. Go."  
  
She looked to the exit. To the doors through which Revan had left and through which she, Jolee and Juhani had so recently returned. Mission saw this and grinned, "Alright! See, Big Z, I told you not to worry so much. But there you went, all grry and losing hair over it-" Her chatter to the Wookie lasted as she darted up the gangplank. Zalbaar's grunt of protest echoed.  
  
Bastila was not moving, and for a moment, neither were Juhani or Jolee. The three stood, forming an unconscious triad that pointed towards the depths of the ship. Bastila's iron countenance seemed to have spread, or at least its meaning did. Juhani looked shocked, as if she'd protest the feeling, the testimony that Bastila's actions were giving.  
  
"No-" Her voice was too quiet to be heard, "It cannot be."  
  
A heartbeat was all it took for her to remember her teaching, falling back to embrace it as the solution once more. Then her head bowed, eyes closing, and her expression became a match for Jolee's regretful countenance. Carth was too busy scanning, checking, and making sure, to see. Canderous was not. He too froze for a moment.  
  
"Damn." The Mandalorian then turned and headed for the ship.  
  
"Jolee, Juh- hell, Jedi - You taking rear gu-?" Carth began, backing up towards the ship even as he walked. Jolee and Juhani turned, in unison to enter.  
  
"She did good, kid." Jolee said quietly to the Cathar, "And you won't forget any of it." He looked up to Carth, "No. We're leaving now. Its done."  
  
The initial words to Juhani couldn't be overheard, but the tone made Carth stop. Jolee's expression and the grief in his subsequent words made him catch his breath. He turned sharply to Bastila. She was also beginning to walk into the ship.  
  
"We must hurry." She snapped.  
  
Carth didn't move. "We can't leave without Revan."  
  
"Revan is dead, Carth." The response spared nothing for emotions.  
  
The pilot's gaze turned to stone, hard enough to match the Jedi's. "I don't believe you."  
  
"Believe me or not, she's gone." Bastila swallowed, then relented, "Carth, I know this is difficult. But she told me herself that she wanted us to leave. She wants us to survive. If you have any regard for her at all, you will honor her dying wish. Come."  
  
"Dying? When did she tell you this? Just now?" Carth stepped forward, closing the distance, "So she's not dead yet. You didn't feel her die."  
  
"No, but-" Bastila shook her head, "Carth, she is dying. She would never make it. She may not make it to another breath. Let her go. She's accomplished her task. Allow her this-"  
  
"Look, lady. I don't know about where you come, from where I come from death is not a reward!" Carth began loudly and worked his way up to a yell. "I will not abandon her."  
  
"Carth-"  
  
"You get aboard the damn ship. You go if you have to-" Carth drew his second pistol sharply, "I'm going to get her."  
  
Bastila watched him leave, unable to find anything that could convince him. Revan was dying, dead. Gone. Bastila knew this to be true.  
  
Thank the Force.  
  
No. No, she had not just thought that. It was unworthy of her. But the seed twisted in her mind. It wasn't fair. Not fair that the one who'd given her a glimpse of the dark side, whose soul had reflected such delicious freedom back at her, should go unscathed. Revan would emerge a hero. Bastila would emerge as a fool who had not the strength to hold to a path. Not even a dark one.  
  
She'd been so weak.  
  
And - she was being weak now.  
  
"Carth!" She shouted, stepping forward quickly, expression melting into something desperate as her redemption threatened to slip beyond her fingers again.  
  
He turned at the doorway, "What?"  
  
"Malak has a ship, beneath the observation deck. Three levels down. He keeps it there in case he needs to escape. If you can reach her- if she's alive-"  
  
Carth nodded, stepping smartly backwards. Bastila grabbed the last of the life packs she held and threw it at him. He caught it from the air, turned, and began to run.  
  
Bastila turned and fled to the ship.  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Akasha15 - Under the assumption that you find these chapters decent and good, consider them both a birthday gift :) Or birthday and Christmas, whichever, ya want. Thanks for the review. I appreciate the inspiration. Needed it. . And the Hershey's! Muahahaha 


	9. The Ease of Understanding

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time; one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind  
  
Chapter 8 - The Ease of Understanding  
  
They slept, separate sides of the hold. Or at least, the attempt was made by both. Carth could not sleep. For a time he made a decent go of it trying to at least lay still. But muscles bruised didn't quiet long enough for him to be comfortable. He was certain Revan had done some Jedi trick, meditation or something, to close her eyes and even her breathing so quickly. It would have been nice if she'd shared.  
  
And now, where he'd felt nothing but pure satisfaction and joy, seeing her alive and knowing that everything was finally over, there was unease. Unease because it had seemed like it would be so easy and somehow it was more difficult than ever.  
  
He stood up. It was too dark. Too silent. And he was starting to think of things that he'd rather not. Best to focus on what could be done. He stepped as stealthily as he could and made his way from the vessel. He did not have any light source, but the moons above were full and half. He could see well enough. Well enough to do a bit of scouting. Find some water, maybe. If he was lucky, he'd run across some things they could use.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Revan woke up to the sound of metal against metal, grinding. She groaned, hand going to her head. "What-?"  
  
She moved to sit and nearly lost herself to the nausea. Enough of that. The Force was smooth under her fingers again. Silken and easy to move. She moved the warmth to her chest, allowing it to spread and heal little things she'd forgotten about. Forgotten until waking had brought them to her attention.  
  
The relief was just as tangible as the pain was. She stood and stretched, toes flexing as she went up and then shoulders rolling backwards. The sound of things being moved, thudding, drew her. But set center in the room was an oblong coconut, halved with knife stuck center. It was resting on an upended cargo container and was clearly intended for her. She didn't want to accept, but, in the light of day, no longer in pain, it seemed childish to refuse it. She walked over and used the knife to begin to cut. Apart from the surprise that the thing was rather soft, including the husk, and that it tasted like - well, like apples with mint, it was simply another meal.  
  
Finished, she stood and began to track down the sound. Light streamed ethereally, through the wholes in the hull and as she entered the charred bridge, she stopped. Carth was kneeling, reaching into panels that lay just beyond charred skeletal feet. Light skimmed the top of his head and illuminated the dust and ash that had been kicked up.  
  
"What are you doing?" Revan asked.  
  
Carth grunted. "Trying to see if I can salvage some communications. The fleet is up there. We just need to let them know we're alive and down here."  
  
His answer was straight and to the point.  
  
She brushed her hair back from her face. "Well, they will know we're alive anyway. And I have faith that Bastila will be able to find us." She shrugged, "I don't know our coordinates, but it wouldn't take long for her to focus in on our general area and then follow me from there."  
  
"Wonderful."  
  
Revan's eyes widened at the caustic tone. "What's wrong?"  
  
Carth drew back and glared at her. Circles lined his eyes, ash settled into lines that spoke eloquently of age and weariness where normally there was no testimony. His hands held wire, most of it burnt except for a few inches. He tossed it to the side where more wiring, each a piece offering only a little worth salvaging, had been set aside.  
  
"Nothing. Nothing. Just-" He gestured, "I've spent this entire morning breaking my back piecing together from this wreck what I need to try and get a signal out, and you just walk in with this answer." He pointed a finger at him, "And don't. Yeah, I'm glad that Bastila will find us. Yeah, I'm glad I don't have to finish this. But it would have been nice to know earlier."  
  
"You didn't ask earlier." Revan protested. Guilt and honest sympathy made her wince. "Here-" She'd broken herself of the need to gesture overtly, limiting to simple motions of her fingers. An arch made with her index finger sent waves of healing over to Carth. He straightened slowly as she smoothed the hurt away like water to ripples set in sand. "Better."  
  
Carth looked at her, brown eyes dark. He didn't say a word, but slowly stood. It was only once he'd reached full height and had wiped his arm across his brow, smearing his face worse with the ash that he spoke, words carefully even, "Yes. Thank you."  
  
Revan was not getting a good feeling from this. She shifted back a moment, then raised her chin, "Alright, Carth. What's wrong?"  
  
"Why are you asking me this?"  
  
She shook her head, "Because you obviously are upset about something."  
  
"Me? I'm just trying to keep up with your moods, Revan. Sorry if I'm not quite quick enough." Carth moved to shoulder by her.  
  
"Hey!" She snapped, "And don't call me that!"  
  
He half turned, "What?"  
  
She stepped after him. A rumble came distantly from overhead, but she did not hear it. "Revan. It's not my name." Her eyes flared, "I didn't do those things, Carth. I don't remember doing any of it, but you're still holding me accountable for them, aren't you?"  
  
"So you aren't Revan. Fine. If that's the take you want to have on it, that's fine with me-"  
  
"It's not a tak-!"  
  
"But I'm not holding you accountable for anything that you haven't done." Carth finished.  
  
She hissed in a breath and closed her mouth. She licked her lips and took a breath, "I didn't kill Dustil." She enunciated clearly.  
  
And it was Carth's turn to look surprised. His eyes widened and then became shuttered, "I didn't say you did."  
  
"Yes. You did." Revan grated, "Quite loudly. You told me that it was my fault for not stopping him, for not interrupting him. I could talk a Hutt out of credits but I allowed this horrible thing that tore you up to happen because I'm such a horrible person."  
  
". I don't want to talk about this." Carth said flatly.  
  
"No. I'd imagine you don't." Revan's voice was just as flat, "You just want to tell me crash stories, and tell me how it's a perfect time to - to start, what, Carth? To start. acting like a couple? For you to start acting like you care about me again? It's not that easy!"  
  
And now she shouldered by him, anger in every line of her body. He watched her go and the sound of the Hawk's engines drowned out his words.  
  
"No. It never is." 


	10. Family Reunions

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time; one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind - Family Reunions  
  
Waves played around the Ebon Hawk's struts once more. The ship powered down, conservative of fuel when possible. The door began to open and the gangplank extended.  
  
"So are you sure they're here?" Mission asked, first at the door and first to walk her way down. Her stride was compressed energy, as usual, though her demeanor reflected the worry.  
  
"Yes, Mission. I am certain," Bastila replied, "I told you."  
  
"I know. But it's not like you haven't been all oblique with us before." Mission pointed out.  
  
"Oblique? You're stretching your vocabulary girl." Canderous' coarse voice was amused, "Just say it like it is. She's kept things from us before."  
  
"I only kept things when I had to," Bastila was quick to point out, annoyance now quite evident in her aristocratic tone, "And I never lied."  
  
"Yeah, well, keeping it from us isn't that much better," Mission muttered.  
  
"No, Mission. She is here. And Carth too, I feel it." Juhani had no problem letting her enthusiasm be felt.  
  
As the group milled outside of the ship, Canderous shouldered his rifle. "So which way?"  
  
"Here." Revan stepped forward from the forest, crashing through foliage like a mad thing but hardly caring.  
  
It was hard to tell which reaction to turn to first. Mission threw herself into her arms, hugging tightly and talking non-stop. Juhani was beaming, Canderous was not smiling, not really. But there did seem to be a general tightening of the mouth muscles that could have indicated the beginnings of the expression, or at least some satisfaction. Jolee gave a quick one-armed hug and while Zalbaar remained to the side, his hoots - most of them in response to Mission - overlay the whole conversation. The droids did not approach. Neither did Bastila.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Bastila said you were dying?"  
  
"What happened with Malak?"  
  
Revan held up a hand. "Hold up. Hold up. It's alright. We're fine. Carth is back at the ship." Her eyes flickered. Jolee's narrowed, and she hurried on. "I was hurt pretty bad. I was dying. But Carth showed up with all those life packs and, well, enough said. And Malak. He's gone. Do you really need more details?"  
  
"Revan must be tired," Bastila said smoothly, "And we need to get back to the Council. I know they are most anxious. You said Carth was back at your ship? Perhaps Zalbaar and Jolee could fetch him?"  
  
Revan's brow furrowed, "Its fine. We can go whatever," She began to smirk, humor rising. They'd come. Bastila'd come. She wasn't going to be trapped here. "What, Bastila? Aren't you happy to see me?" She raised a brow.  
  
"Don't be foolish," Bastila said. Their eyes met, "Of course I'm glad to see you. I just - " The dark haired Jedi broke off. She lost, or won, a battle and stepped forward brusquely. She gave Revan a quick hug. "Of course I'm glad to see you," she repeated, quieter, then stepped back. "Very much so. We just have a lot to do."  
  
Revan sighed, "I was afraid you'd say that."  
  
"Glad you could stop by. I see you managed to take care of the Ebon Hawk just fine." Carth's voice invited another round of chaos and greetings. Mission again bounded forward in a hug, perpetually in the lead with her gestures.  
  
They began to walk back to the ship, unhurried.  
  
"You said that we had a lot to do." Revan ventured as they boarded, hating herself for it. "You mean clean up? Ships, Sith, that got away?"  
  
"Not exactly." Bastila walked straight through the ship. "There is to be a celebration. The Council wished to speak with you as well."  
  
"The Council?" Revan looked behind her and met four five sets of curious eyes looking back and two sets of sensors. Carth wasn't looking at her. She turned back to Bastila. The cockpit loomed and the Jedi took a seat. Brush by - Carth moving to take his own position.  
  
"You know, Carth, you could like take a bath first." Mission chimed. She was ignored.  
  
"This has been a very important situation, Revan." Bastila continued. "The Council is going to wish to speak to you. But I wouldn't worry. We've won."  
  
Revan didn't feel very reassured. She leaned back against the wall. The Council. "If they try to erase my memory again," she said without thinking, "Bastila, if they try to destroy me again.."  
  
"That's not going to happen." Juhani spoke now, accented voice certain. "They have no reason to hurt you, Revan. This is a time to rejoice."  
  
Zalbaar howled, making his emphasis that no one would be doing anything to Revan or Revan's mind as long as he stood.  
  
Revan nodded, "Of course. You're right." She parroted, automatically soothing. "It will be fine. I'm just worried."  
  
"You have no need. The Council took action against Darth Revan." Bastila said, "Not you."  
  
Revan half smiled. "Right."  
  
The Ebon Hawk shuddered as it began to lift off.  
  
"You and Carth should get cleaned up." Bastila took the lead again. She was becoming quite good at it. "We've some time."  
  
"I'll go first then?" Revan asked, suddenly stiff again.  
  
"Sounds good." Carth agreed without turning to her.  
  
+++++  
  
There had been bright colors against an azure sky....  
  
"Prodigal Jedi you have been named. But your training has barely begun."  
  
The sound of native instruments playing songs so ancient that she could not guess how long ago they'd been composed. They were the cheery counter point as the medals were hung around necks....  
  
"You will return to Coruscant to complete it, Padawan."  
  
HK was gleaming. He'd made her smile just moments before by referring the Admiral in his customary style. He'd made her smile, but the good Admiral had choked at being referred to as a meat bag....  
  
"You frown. Do not mistake yourself, Revan. You've defeated a great evil, but power does not indicate mastery. Not mastery of self. A Padawan learner you were, and in control, a Padawan leaner you remain. Bastila is proof of what your darkness can do."  
  
The ships were dots on the horizon. She couldn't see them, they were behind her. But she was somehow aware. They were distant, bright and beautiful. So far off as to be untouchable. But then, without a breath they were there. Glittering as an unsought gift. Screaming overhead like demented birds as they approached the sound barrier...  
  
"The Ebon Hawk? A Jedi does not worry over material possessions. You will not need it. We will remain here for a day, perhaps two more, but then we must return. There is much in the universe that needs to be put right, Padawan. You must learn to bend the Force towards that effort, and not your own. Go. Celebrate this victory over the Dark Side. We will talk again later."  
  
..... and then they were gone. It was all gone. Only vapor trails marked that it had ever been. 


	11. Confessions

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time; one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind - Confessions  
  
The room was cold. Steps echoed and thoughts rebounded upon their owners while metal walls watched. It was the perfect place to think and the worst place to be alone.  
  
"I need you to listen to me," he said slowly, "Even though I don't - I don't guess I'm going to make much sense." He stopped there for a moment, "You said I was blaming you. I wasn't blaming you. Not . . . not even for Dustil. It was just . . . I know that you won't understand but there comes a point when all you are used to doing is losing. Losing things you love, losing things you believe in and losing pieces of yourself every time . . . every time you are wrong. I still don't know why," he swallowed and his eyes dropped, "I don't know why you didn't say something. You stood there and you must have seen what was happening. I just don't know why you didn't stop him from firing. Didn't stop my son - " and his voice broke on the word, broke on the image of his child. "- my son. . ."  
  
His hand rose to his face, rubbing at his eyes as if to expunge the image of a toddler calling his name. It stayed there for a moment but when he lowered it, his expression was more composed. His voice was steadier. "Why didn't you do a hundred things. I still don't know. And . I still love you. How can that be? I look at you - and I.. Can you even imagine how it /feels/ to say.." He raised his head. His eyes were flat. "I look at you and I forget about how losing them hurts. I forget. . and that can't be right." His voice quickened, rose in the indignation of his own emotions, "It can't be right that I forget them! That I forget what losing them means!" His breathing was rapid and he forced it back. His lips pressed tight and his voice quieted again, "You talk about blame.... It's not for you, Revan. It's for me."  
  
Carth's voice trailed off, eaten by the silence of the empty cargo bay. And the wall he'd spoken to had little comment, good or bad, about the pain it had just been privy to.  
  
He sighed, squared his shoulders as if for a battle he did not think he'd win, and left the bay to search for Revan.  
  
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Akasha15 - Thanks! I figured I'd follow up for Christmas day :) It does seem like lots of females don't like Bastila. I've noticed higher rates of liking when there is a male writing the story. Makes sense. I definitely didn't like her at first, but in actually trying to think like her? You have to have some sympathy for the woman. She's going to have a hard time of it. And yep. Angst away. Hope I didn't spread it too thick. Warning though, guys. The end will not be neatly wrapped in a bow.  
  
AnimeNinja - *laughs* Really glad you approve. I've got the whole thing written through the end. Just hesitating because I think the end needs tweaking and I've not got much of the time. But I do believe that two more chapters should be good, eh? Though.. there /is/ only one chapter left to the story after this. 


	12. In the End

Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters, the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all bothered about. "Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but Passion". They are only connected through time; one can definitely be read without the other.  
  
Things Left Behind - In the End  
  
"Revan. We need to talk." Carth walked into the female quarters on the Ebon Hawk with little preamble.  
  
Revan looked up from the small bag she was packing and turned around slowly, "What is it?"  
  
"Just listen to me. I know I'm not going -" Carth's eyes fell on the pack. "What's that for?"  
  
"The Council has me returning to Coruscant with them." Revan said evenly.  
  
He nodded, leaning against the doorway. "Makes sense. I'd guess they have a lot of questions. But you can take the Ebon Hawk there. You don't have to leave with them." He took a step forward. The words seemed awkward, even to him, "We'll go with you."  
  
Revan found herself focusing on Carth's chest. No higher. "No. They want me to continue training. So, I don't know how long I'll be gone." Now she could force her eyes up. "Come on, Carth. Have you ever heard of a Jedi with a ship and crew before?"  
  
His eyes were intent now. "Yes. Now. You. Revan, you've broken a hundred other Jedi rules and conventions. Why should this one be different?"  
  
"Because it is," Revan said simply.  
  
"So. That's it? You're just leaving?" Carth closed the distance between them, searching her face.  
  
"Ship is heading out. I've . . . already made my goodbyes to the others." The words were not easy to say.  
  
"When? Damn it, we've only been here two or three days."  
  
"This morning, and a few minutes ago . . . I know its sudden, but we've got to get back to the rest of the galaxy," She felt like she was pleading but she couldn't help it.  
  
"I guess - I guess that's it then," he fell silent.  
  
She pursed her lips and looked up to him. "Carth, I want you to take the Hawk."  
  
"I don't want the . . . "  
  
"Please. Bastila - she's leaving too. There's no one else I'd . . .rather have take care of her. Please. And try and take care of the others? HK especially. He needs the watching."  
  
"I don't know where they'll assign me. I might not . . . " His jaw tightened as he watched her expression start to fall, fight the falling. "I'll watch him." He promised.  
  
"Good." Revan managed a smile. "So. I guess that's it then," she repeated lightly.  
  
"Seems so."  
  
They stood in silence, merely watching. The silence compounded upon itself.  
  
"I . . . care a lot about you, you know." Revan forced, "You'd better keep yourself safe."  
  
"Been doing it years before you came along, lady. I'll keep it up. You are the one who has a habit of getting knocked upside the head." Carth's lips quirked.  
  
She laughed a breath.  
  
"Revan, its time to go." It seemed that all Bastila was doing lately was announcing departures. Departures from certain death, departures from limbo, departures from something to nothing. She called from the far end of the hall, carrying her own bag with her.  
  
Revan stepped forward, quickly, as if afraid Bastila's voice would pull her back even as she made the motion. Her hand came up to the side of Carth's face, cradling. "Be happy, alright? And if you need me, I'll come running. And if any one hurts you," Her eyes darkened with both humor and utter sincerity. "Kill them."  
  
She smiled then, bright and bitter. She didn't intend to give him a chance to say anything before she moved to dart past him.  
  
Jedi reflexes were not quite enough to get her free of him in time. His hand caught her arm and swung her around. Lips bent to lips and pressed, fierceness emphasized by the force of the restraint shown. Just a touch, quick and easily dismissed. Then he let her go. She began to back away.  
  
"Goodbye, Jaylen." Carth said quietly.  
  
"Goodbye Carth." She replied, voice taunt. Then she turned, walked very steadily, and found Bastila at the hatch with Juhani.  
  
None of them said a word as they made their way to a Republic ship. Nor did they speak as they sat and waited for the pre-flights and last of boardings to be accomplished. It was hours later when the ship finally lifted off and the ship set a course to bring the Jedi home.  
  
The End  
  
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Everyone - Guys, I'm so thankful for the reviews and the feedback that I've gotten. Especially those who've reviewed from the beginning. It is no exaggeration to say that I would not have written anything more than that first one shot without your feedback and interest. Thank you. Very very much. I've read fan fiction for a while now, and I know what it feels like to see the characters you love live a little again. If I've been able to give even a touch of that, I am thrilled. Thanks for giving me the chance to try.  
  
Crimsonmyst - When I finished the game I did the exact same thing. Nothing was up :P So I had to start my own. Now there are a few others out there and its much nicer. I think they'll be more as soon as more people finish. The allure of writing additional scenes is nearly impossible to resist! I'm glad you liked my take on what might have happened. And, there are more things planned, I just have to get around to writing them. Thanks for reviewin!  
  
Akasha15 - Yeah, Bastila is always painted by her first silliness. I am not sure how they give the male player more of a chance to get romantic. I'd suppose she shows more vulnerability to 'him'. Ah well. Glad you like Carth's musings. I mean, the guy has to be kind of at loose ends. And, I don't quite agree with the 'he's a twit' philosophy. I think he's got good reasons for being paranoid. And - sorry for the cliffy. There could have been a more complete ending, but I can't buy that the Jedi would just bid a fond farewell to Revan. Nope Nope. (  
  
Schally - *grins* I'm just waiting for more chapters in your fict as well! You can't leave us hanging forever. Bastila gets more interesting the more I try and think like her. Almost thinking of trying to write a one shot from her point of view. I honestly don't know where she'd go from here. What she'd be like. It might be fun to find out ;) And thanks. The transition from one shot to a serial wasn't easy. Glad to know I didn't lose it..  
  
AnimeNinja - Yep! Poor Carth. Left behind, sucked out of a ship, facing an emotionally unstable female, and now. left talking to himself in a cargo bay. But, hey, he's a big boy. He'll come out okay. We hope ;) And, this is the last, but there will be more eventually. Thanks for reviewing :) 


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